Silvery Glaze
by Fyr3W0rk5
Summary: Chrys Lyum-Aster had always wondered what it will be like becoming a Huntress, what kind of obstacles she will face, and what kind of people she will meet. Chrys wondered what will they think of her Semblance, a liability, a curse, a burden... She wasn't special, even if she had eyes the colour of silver. They were common enough, right? (Stand-alone story, before RWBY, sort-of AU)


CHRYSALIS

«∆»

_Once upon a time there stood a city walled by the oldest of stones and the brightest of steel. Humanity thrived behind the iron curtains, blissfully carrying out their daily chores and sleeping in their little, humble abodes. In the morning, men roamed the streets with brisk steps, eyes on the many workplaces and odd-jobs littered in the city. Wives stayed in their warm homes, looking out for their children as they played and joyed. The King and The Queen felt satisfied as the day went by, wearing wide smiles and feasting at a good day._

_As the Sun fell, the Moon rose, the night beckoned for sleep. As the people went back inside their homes, curled up in their blankets, slumbering in their dreams, the ground quaked with an unforeseen power. On the morrow, the King and The Queen were shocked to find the walls no longer standing, turned into ashes and rubble. The citizens became afraid and anxious, waking to an image that befitted a nightmare. They hunched their shoulders and hung their heads low._

_The King summoned the finest miners to produce the strongest metal to withstand the most vile of attacks, and summoned the finest architects to build the most formidable of defenses to ever stand on their realm. And so they did. They worked relentlessly, day in, day out. All the while, The King never slept, remaining ever-vigilant up on his tower. But right before the sixth day, when the wall had just been completed, The King couldn't take it anymore and finally fell asleep._

_The King lay beneath the covers of his bedsheets, but deep inside his mind, he lay awake in his dream. There he saw carnage, devastation, and chaos. The King felt dejected and forlorn, helpless to the sight of crying children and burnt streets. In the distance, beyond the wall, he saw them. The Grimm. Black and tangent, like a mass of inky bodies and limbs creeping closer to the city. Their rows of teeth and red eyes gazing with hunger._

_The King awoke as the sun had risen, with pale blue skies and white clouds. He got to work, ordering the people of the city to stand ready, rallying speeches and calling the most professional of soldiers. And so he sent them away to battle the beast, marching beyond the wall. But, all of it proved fruitless as they never came back._

_The King grew frustrated as more and more soldiers were walking to their demises. He hashed out a plan to defeat The Grimm._

_He called them… The Hunter–_

"Gimme!" Her book was torn from her hands, earning a surprised squawk. Chrys whirled onto the blond girl who had shamelessly stolen it, glaring at her.

"Hey- what gives?!"

"Mama will read it! You can't."

"I too, can read!" To emphasize her point, she held her chin up high and pointed at herself with a confident smirk

"Nah, you're gross–!" The Bastard blew a raspberry at her, which left Chrys to gape at her incredulously.

"Gross?!"

She heard a soft giggle from the woman behind her seat, the blonde man beside her shook his head whilst holding a softly humming baby. "You're finding this way too amusing, Sum."

"Don't you, Tai?"

"Yeah, but not that much."

Summer giggled some more, holding a hand over her quirked lips. Dark hair faded red bobbed lightly against the faux-leather seat of the car. Her silver eyes shined genially at her before turning back to The Bastard. "Now, now, Yang. You shouldn't be stealing other people's stuff, would you?"

The Bastard — she refused to acknowledge her real name — glanced up from the book to Summer, staring at her with quizzical eyes. "Not stealing," she declared. "sharing."

"Shawin'," Ruby — the less than year old baby — managed to say. Her barely opened eyelids showed a glimpse of sparkling blue, tufts of hair a similar colour to Summer's own swaying lightly.

"See!" The Bastard beamed at Summer, her lavender eyes shone brighter. "Sharing."

Summer openly laughed, soft and cheery. She glowered at the woman for being so laid back in such a situation this serious! Her book was being held as a bargaining chip, she just knew it. The Bastard's eyes would occasionally stray to her, as if daring her to try and make a move.

"Oh my," Summer wiped a tear from her cheek when her laughing fit dimmed down, settling to happy giggles. "that _is_ correct. But doesn't Chrys need to read as well for the both of you to share?"

Chrys nodded furiously.

"... Maybe you can sit on her lap and read it together, how about that?"

Chrys shook her head furiously.

"Yay!" The Bastard immediately jumped towards the passenger seat, slamming onto Chrys' lap with the weight of a concrete block. Only for a second, The Bastard smirked up at her slyly, unbefitting of a two year old child.

"Mrs. Summer!" she whined, face lighting up in both fury and embarrassment. Once settled and comfortable, The Bastard looked at her with expectant eyes, having already pushed her book in Chrys' hands.

"Read," she said simply.

"Not while you're on my lap, I won't." Chrys huffed, glaring with baleful eyes from the top of her book. The Bastard didn't do anything for a moment, her face showing no glimpse of the inner workings of her juvenile mind.

Then —_ slowly_ — her eyes lit up like lavender light bulbs.

That was the first sign The Bastard was onto something, most likely something mischievous. Something that definitely did not bode well for Chrys. She was always like that, The Bastard. For a two year old, she was such a jerk! How did Summer deal with her every day? She'd bet her spine that Summer probably tie her to a steel pole or something, and The Bastard would still escape!

She was foxy like that.

Speak of the devil and she shall arrive. Chrys looked to the child sat on her lap, wondering _excitedly_ on just what nefarious things she had planned for her. She expected her to faux cry and adopt a lost puppy look in order to force her to read, Chrys already had contingency plans running in her mind for that.

She expected for The Bastard to run her hands down all over Chrys' body like the pervert she was — she did one time, and Summer had the pleasure of witnessing the whole display in full view. The Bastard's excuse was that she wanted to cop a feel of Chrys. A two year old said that — Summer was as shocked as she was!

She hadn't expected for The Bastard's eyes to turn crimson red in colour….

And for her blonde hair to _literally _burn.

"AAIIIEEEEEE!" Chrys screamed, flailing her arms around in panic. Her body jerked violently in her seat when the car swerved suddenly, with The Bastard holding onto her for dear life. She screamed some more, clutching her book tightly and eyes shut.

The car screeched to a halt, rubber skidding across asphalt. Her head lurched forward with the momentum but thankfully not her whole body. She thanked the gods for the existence of seatbelts for that. Unfortunately, The Bastard did not have that sort of luxury, falling out of her lap and then under the dashboard.

Outside, where the highway resided, vehicles moved out of the way of the impromptu roadblock, honking angrily and shouting insults as they passed by. She sat there, her breaths hoarse and rapid, eyes wide in panic. She was still holding the book in her hands, keeping it as close to her chest as she humanly could.

Ruby cried.

"Do it again, do it again!" The Bastard cheered, as if not knowing that she almost caused the car to crash.

Glancing to the driver's seat, Dad was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His hazel eyes were pinpricks in a sea of frightened white, fixated on the road before him. With trembling lips, Alfred spoke stiffly, "_Summer, could you please…_"

"Yang!" Instead of Summer that responded — she was too busy hyperventilating — it was Taiyang, cradling a distraught Ruby. His blue eyes locked onto The Bastard, who swiftly looked away in shame. "What did I tell you about using your Semblance in a car?"

"That is bad if I use it, and if I do, I'm not allowed to eat Mama's choco chip cookies for the rest of the week…" her voice was full of anguish as she said that, a lone tear escaped her now normal lilac eyes that were shut tight.

"I am so awfully sorry about this!" Summer poked her head between the seat, looking at Dad with guilt in her eyes. "Yang is always such a troublemaker. From now on, I promise she wouldn't do that ever again."

"_It's… it's fine…"_ Alfred wheezed with a crack in his voice, eyes still on the road. Chrys looked at him with concern, wondering how she could help. Dad didn't have a heart condition per se, more that he was more prone to being scared — and when he did, he would go into a shock kind of state.

She glared venomously at The Bastard, knowing that she was the reason Dad was in shock. The aura of mischief that she once exuded was now gone, replaced with gloom.

"I'm sowwy," she said simply, voice hollow and lacking the usual glee.

Behind her, Summer sighed. "And this was supposed to be a simple trip to the Vytal Festival, but _no_, it just had to go wrong…" she muttered under her breath, but Taiyang heard.

"No, nothing had gone wrong, Summer. This was just a little accident. Right, Alfred?"

Dad was regaining some of his calm back, controlling his breathing evenly as he started to take the wheel again. "Yeah… at least we didn't crash. All in all, we haven't had anything overtly troublesome. So, we can still go to the Vytal Festival, no biggie."

"But it's ruined!"

"You're way too hard on yourself, Summer." Taiyang stared at Alfred in wide-eyed surprise, his mouth slightly parted as though he was just about to utter the exact words that came from Alfred. The two shared a long look, before solemnly nodding to each other in silent agreement.

"Don't forget that I'm sorta responsible too, Sum, don't take this alone. And hey, Yang didn't actually set the car ablaze like last time, so that's a start." Taiyang said it with such nonchalance, that Chrys wondered what kind of hellscape did this family live in that such a disaster could be considered unconcerning. She shuddered at the thought.

"Yeah," Alfred said. "we still have the Vytal Festival ahead of us. It's not like we can't– wait, what did you just say about a car–"

"We don't talk about that," Summer and Taiyang interrupted automatically, both having had the thousand-yard stare in their eyes.

"But you just did…" Alfred pointedly looked at Taiyang, who glanced away as Summer levelled an irritated glare on him. Taiyang chuckled nervously as a bead of sweat ran down Alfred's cheek. "Right." He gulped loudly. "Like I was saying, it's not like we can't enjoy the rest of the day. We have the festival for that."

"I guess…" Summer conceded as she played idly with a strand of her hair, twirling it in neat circles. "But, I don't know if things would get worse–"

"C'mon, Summer, this is the Vytal Festival we're talking about. What's there to go wrong?" Alfred laughed heartily while Summer and Taiyang glanced to each other but for a second.

Chrys always wondered about the Vytal Festival. She liked them enough — though for all the wrong reasons. She didn't care about the fighting or glory that those people from television kept talking about. She liked them because they reminded her of her mother.

Something that she could hold on to. The scent of sweat after a good workout or a difficult expedition. The stain of dirt and dust that clung to their clothes. The dents in their variety of armour, their collection of weapons. All of it, and to remind her of Mom.

To her, Summer was like a second mother. Her kind demeanor and gentle smile. The way her white, angelic cloak hugged her body like a big blanket, how she would let it billow behind her when the wind swept through her. Though from time to time, she hated Summer's constant teasing and cooing that was always aimed at her or The Bastard.

It was so like her mother, nonetheless.

"You're right, Alfred." Summer sighed in a defeated tone. "It's like we're always assuming the worse nowadays…"

"Maybe it has something to do with you being Hunters and all that? What with all the stress on missions and the general feeling of danger," Alfred added, sensing Summer's confused expression.

She shrugged, eyebrows quirked amusedly. "Maybe. You mean, like, our Souls naturally adapting to the Hunter lifestyle, but once we return to civilian life, we breakdown?"

Alfred cringed from her choice of wording. "Not exactly breakdown… more like, old habits die hard. Amyelia used to have this problem all the times she came home from a particularly arduous mission, and she'd have a hard time blending in to day-to-day life."

"Are we like that, Tai?" Summer asked, with a look that of astonishment. Taiyang matched her face to a tee, and he could only shrug in response.

Alfred laughed. "Don't worry, Amyelia didn't notice it either at first. Most Hunters that service in the field often don't even know they _are _acting abnormally. Y'know, Amyelia would always check around corners no matter how much I told her it wasn't necessary. She was unbearably paranoid, but she wasn't always like that. She used to be so cheery and passionate when it came to Hunting, but after that mission…"

"Dad?"

"Yes, sweetie?" He didn't glance to her, eyes still on the road. But he did nod his head slightly to show he was listening intently. "Is there something you need? Do you need to take a potty break?"

"N- No… it's not that." She squirmed in her seat, while The Bastard took her book and started reading it herself, whispering the letters Chrys could barely hear. She wished she could read along, but the words jumbled and mixed in her mind she couldn't think straight.

All she could think was Amyelia.

"If you need it now, you know you can ask me." Dad waited for her to speak, smiling at her from the side. Chrys gazed hard at his smile, full of teeth. She didn't know why, but she swore she could faintly smell something that made her a little tipsy from his breath.

"It's fine, it's just… can I wear my headphones here?" she asked, already reaching said device. It was more of a polite thing to ask first, then act second, Mom always taught her that. She blinked rapidly as tears threatened to burst, hoping that Dad or Summer or Taiyang — or god forbid The Bastard — saw the wetness in her hazel eyes.

"Sure thing, honey." He fished out his scroll, a small, white box that easily fit in his beefy hands. "Here, you can have my playlist to listen to while we're still on the road."

Chrys gingerly grasped the scroll from his hands, the thing felt cold in her touch, her clammy fingers staining the featureless screen with sweat. Yet so very real. With a soft tap, the device flickered to life, artificial light burned her wet eyes. The home screen popped into view, the image was of a sunny day with no clouds, she looked a lot younger - three years of age, Chrys remembered - and she was hugged between Mom and Dad, both smiling at the camera.

"Oh, you listen to music, Chrys?" Summer leaned over her seat, arms crossed with her chin propped up, a big smile on her face. She gasped when she saw the family wallpaper, crooning pleasantly. "Aw~! That's so _adorable!_"

Chrys closed her eyes shut, hanging on the edge of bursting into tears. It was a saving grace that Dad or Summer hadn't noticed her shaking lips and her soft whimpers, try as she might had to suppress them.

"Summer, give her some time alone…" Taiyang groaned, hand running down his face. His other played with Ruby, making the baby squeal in delight as he did. "This is the perfect example as to why Qrow keeps teasing you about how you don't know the concept of personal space."

Even if she wasn't looking at her directly, Chrys could imagine that Summer was flushed red on the cheeks, letting out an indignant squawk aimed at Taiyang only confirmed that yes, she was annoyed and miffed.

But they belong together.

She refused to look at them being so happy and carefree with one another, she envied them. Truly.

All she could do was to plug in her headphones to the scroll, and to pick a genre, a song by random. She didn't need to find meaning in the lyrics she chose to hear, they were already meaningless to her. She wanted a distraction, something for herself to get lost into. To escape from the images of her fears and doubts.

She remembered them all.

«•••»

Chrys was acting weird.

Summer _knew_ that, but for the life of her and Qrow's persistent nagging regarding her motherly nature, she didn't know why. Did that make her a bad mother? Yang was still two years old, anyway, so maybe when she would get older, things would quickly spiral into absolute chaos and Summer would be helpless in understanding–

_You know what, that was a thought best left to never be brought up again. _Summer knew Yang would eventually change, but even cryogenically freezing her wouldn't stop it. She shook her head, Yang would still change, and there was nothing for her to do besides to react.

She was slightly frustrated at that fact, the knowledge that there was nothing she could do when the time for Yang to undergo the horrifyingly dreaded 'Puberty' finally came. But despite that, in her deepest, most honest part of her Soul, Summer's love for Yang would never change. She could complain all she wanted, but in the end, there was nothing to stop her from seeing Yang as her own daughter.

She couldn't stop her motherly instincts from noticing that ever since she woke up, Chrys hadn't spoken a word, only nodding or shaking her head when asked a question. Summer wasn't blind to social cues, as much as Qrow wanted to tease her. Vacant eyes, stiff limbs and posture. Something was clearly wrong, something Chrys wasn't even keen on telling her own father who, in her knowledge, she absolutely adored!

And speaking of which, why wasn't Alfred approaching her? He must've had noticed the way Chrys was acting wasn't normal. Even Taiyang looked mildly concerned. She wouldn't exactly jump the gun and say that Alfred was irresponsible or oblivious to her feelings and emotions. Summer saw how they both acted together, Chrys loved him and Alfred was as doting to her as Summer was to Yang.

So, what was she missing? Why weren't they talking? It just didn't make any sense. A girl like Chrys shouldn't be so downcast at such a time meant for fun and happiness. This place was a literal carnival for goodness sake! The mood just didn't fit with the surrounding aura of festivity that all the visitors around them oozed. It was a time for play and entertainment.

Entertainment… maybe she could convince Chrys to forget about the thing that was bothering her in exchange for some good old carnival games! That would always cheer Summer up whenever she felt miserable. The plan was bound to help Chrys up to spirits, and if it didn't, then she could always try alternative things to keep her busy.

But first, option one: games. Her silver eyes that glinted with determination roved the colourful crowds of people, each with faces set in expressions too many for her to focus on, but most had smiles on their faces. Her ears rang with laughter of varying pitches and sounds, an assemblage of noises that made her heart dance with the beat. The people mingled and chatted between rushes of activity.

She pouted internally, why had she been cursed with the stature of a gremlin again? Oh right, because the gods hated her for some reason. She stood on her tippy-toes, trying to catch a view over the heads of the crowds. Since that didn't work, she started hopping in place, but it still wasn't enough!

"... Summer, what are you doing?" Taiyang raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, standing just a few feet apart from her in case they get separated. Dear Ruby was happily suckling on a plastic pacifier, whilst Yang was being carried piggyback style by Taiyang, snoring softly and content with sleeping.

"Can't… reach!" She stomped a foot down in frustration, it didn't help her any good, but it sure as heck felt somewhat cathartic. She jumped again, harder. Passersby looked at her oddly, some snickered behind their hands and she felt her cheeks going red.

"Ah–! Excuse me... sorry... coming through!" Summer looked behind her, to the voice of Alfred. Oh shiz! She left him and Chrys in the dust and they were struggling in dodging and weaving their way through the crowds. Just barely visible from her line of sight, she saw Chrys holding tightly to Alfred's hand, sticking close to her father.

"Alfred! Chrys!" she yelled at the top of her lungs, trying to catch their attention. It _did_ catch the attention of the twenty or so people around her, they winced and glared at her, though she didn't notice them, too focused on her task. Taiyang stayed reasonably quiet, not wanting to disturb the kids.

Summer waved her hand above her head, hoping that it could make them catch sight of her. A glimpse of their huddled bodies heralded Summer to shout their name again and louder, overpowering the background noises. Alfred's head shot up, face splitting into a relieved smile when his eyes locked onto her.

She was much the same, waving fiercely at them with a big smile on her face. Phew, at least this didn't go horribly, she wanted to tempt fate by saying that today couldn't get any worse. She went to close the distance and apologize sheepishly, but her smile dropped a little when she saw Chrys still looking down in the dumps.

Not for longer….

"Sorry that you guys got all squashed up there…" She rubbed the back of her neck, glancing from the corner of her eyes to Chrys, but she didn't respond in any meaningful way that signalled a reaction towards Summer. She just seemed tired, even though she slept through most of the ride to the Vytal Festival.

"It's no worries," Alfred assured. He was still holding onto Chrys, although he squeezed her hand, she didn't reciprocate. As if she was lost in her own world and her feet just carried her through the motions. What was going on inside that mind of hers? "we're kinda slowing you down, anyway."

"You're not, Alfred, we just don't have that much patience, it seems…"

He laughed. "You haven't really known Amyelia that well, then. She would've already made a beeline straight to the fighting ring as soon she got out of the car." Summer stilled, a look of shock on her face. Alfred saw and laughed harder. "Yeah, she was a championship fighter. I don't want to sound too prideful, but I considered her to be one of the best out there."

"Guys," Taiyang called, Summer swivelled her head to look at him and he had an irritated expression on his face. "I don't know about you, but carrying _both_ Yang and Ruby is killing me! Maybe we should find a bench to sit on or something?"

"Oh Tai, you complain too much," she chided, the edges of her lips pulling up when Taiyang became more peeved. She giggled, but surrendered to his pleading gaze, "alright, give Yang to me."

"You're sure? She's heavy…"

"I'm sure," She rolled her eyes. Did Taiyang forgot his manners? You should never ask or assume a woman's weight. "you already had your turn. Also, weren't you complaining just now? Want to take that back?"

"No." He chuckled, giving a view of Yang's relaxed form to her. "Here you go."

Summer moved gently, careful not to disturb the sleeping girl. She took ahold of both her legs from Taiyang's grip, the girl stiffening under her touch, but she calmed down a second later. "There, there. Up you go-woah!" Summer's eyes widened when Yang jumped from Taiyang and onto her, bringing both her legs up and around her torso. She nuzzled her face against her neck, arms coming down to rest crossed on her back.

"Hah, clingy little girl." Taiyang smiled fondly, patting Yang's blonde hair. Normally, if she were awake now, she would've had thrown a hissy fit. And judging by his grinning face, he knew it too. She cooed softly, able to just barely contain her joyful squealing at her daughter's adorable snores.

"So, where are we heading?" Alfred spoke from beside her, looking at her with an odd expression that she couldn't place. Summer didn't notice the subtle twitch of his lips, her eyes were focused on Chrys.

No changes? Of course, what was she expecting? Summer still hadn't even started on her three-step Plan yet, which was: Find a game for Chrys, play the game with Chrys, and then... uh, what was the last part? Make Chrys happy?

What game would be the most appropriate for this situation? There was the classic shooting game, which had grimm silhouettes for targets, she was sure to love that. But, was it too violent for Chrys? Nah, it was okay if the grimm were the targets and not shaped like people.

Had Chrys ever played a shooting game before? She surely had, Summer remembered Alfred mentioning they viewed the Vytal Festival as a memento of sorts, and they always took part in each a few years after Amyelia passed away. Summer thought that was sweet, that even when your loved one's weren't there, they could still be remembered for their deeds and the memories they made.

Chrys and Alfred never missed each one, and they talked about the Vytal Festival as if they lived in it. Which only made sense that Chrys must've had multiple opportunities for carnival play. Summer doubted they arrived at the festival only to leave right after, it just didn't work like that.

But still, would she like it? Summer liked a wide range of games, she didn't really settle for _just_ one. Quantity over quality. So she wouldn't get easily bored, Qrow always teased her about that, and that was the one thing she was aware of. She thought Chrys maybe preferred something more engaging, as she noted when she chose that book she read at the car.

That thought, Summer was happy the book had been chosen by Chrys. It was also a treat listening to Yang squabbling with her, relieved they were getting along. Although, Taiyang kept sending her weird looks whenever she commented on their banter. She eventually had enough and asked him why he was acting so oddly. He just dropped his head, saying, "You're hopeless…"

_What?!_ Wasn't he and Qrow the same? That was how you talked to friends, or at least, how Taiyang and Qrow talked to each always took shots at one another's ego, but they were still friends._ Talk about being hypocritical, Tai. _No matter. Their friendship aside, Summer could imagine the future where Chrys and Yang will be on good terms through the years to come. That would be good for both of them in the long run, to already have a growing friendship so young.

Ah, she was getting melancholic again. If only she brought the book with her, Summer felt a need to read. But she was getting out of track, what she needed was focus. Now wasn't the time for her to be wallowing in her own problems, she could deal with that later, and maybe even invite Taiyang over to help. She shook her head, grounding her thoughts to where it mattered now.

"Oh, look, guys!" Summer pointed at a nearby stall, catching the attention of Taiyang and Alfred. "It's a shooting game. Ooh, I remember playing one of these back then!"

Taiyang glanced from the corner of his eyes to her, confused but intrigued. "Yeah? You're up for a game?"

She eyed Chrys meaningfully, but he didn't understand her pointed gesture at first, raising an eyebrow at her. She stared back, holding his gaze for a minute before looking away defeated. Oh Taiyang, he could be so dense sometimes. Summer admitted that trait of his could be endearing every now and then, but now wasn't the time.

She rolled her eyes and approached Taiyang, he watched her bemusedly before his expression turned sour when Summer plopped Yang onto his back. Her daughter instantly clung tight, bringing her arms around his neck and pulling. Taiyang made a choked sound, but Summer knew he could handle it, so she didn't worry herself.

"Hey Alfred," She turned to the person in question, smiling genially. "I was wondering if I could borrow Chrys for a bit. If you're okay with it."

He was taken aback by her sudden request, more because she took both of his hands in hers in a gesture she realized may had been too direct… "Oh, uh, sure," he numbly said, looking bewildered. Summer tentatively took her hands away, wringing them behind her back, and smiling at him apologetically.

She glanced to Taiyang, hoping nowhe'd understand. He gave her a quick, subtle nod. Though not without a wary shake of his head. Summer rolled her eyes so hard she worried they'd fall out of their sockets. Yes, she will be careful as to not push her too much, lest Chrys closed herself off even more.

"It's just for a little while, nothing too troublesome, of course." _Unless one counted subtle interrogation as being 'troublesome', then yeah, it would be._ "You and Taiyang can go find us ladies a free spot to rest at once we're all done."

"Yes, dear…"

"That's the spirit, Tai." Summer smirked impishly, making a note to _repay_ him once things had the chance to settle down. She could also practice that technique she saw at an article just a few days ago, she was sure Taiyang would be thrilled by it.

Alfred rubbed his arms nervously, digging the soles of his shoes on the ground. "Well, just… be careful. Okay, Summer? Keep an eye on Chrys," he said, somewhat needlessly, Summer pointed out.

"Of course, you needn't worry, Alfred." she assured, patting his shoulder softly at the same time she took Chrys by the hand. She obediently followed through, not once lifting her head up to stare at Summer or her surroundings. The sight made her scrunch her face in both frustration and confusion. She squeezed her hand, but she felt limp as a puppet without strings in Summer's hold, and there was a lethargic air that seemed to start infecting her.

She sighed not-so-loudly, so no one besides herself could hear. Quickly, she plastered on a smile for Alfred, and waved as they departed. Summer glanced to Chrys once they were a good distance away, her feet leading her to the aforementioned stall.

"... Chrys–"

"I don't wanna play."

Her words cut through her thoughts like a knife through butter. Summer almost stumbled forward when hazel eyes suddenly locked onto her, an empty gaze which managed to send shivers down her spine. She chuckled, hoping to the gods out there she hadn't sounded too nervous, "Why not?"

Chrys turned her gaze elsewhere, head tilted in such a way that her black, frizzled hair curtained her face. At the same time, she let go of her hand. Her fists were clenched tight at her sides, and Summer took note of how they were trembling in place. "I just feel like I don't wanna." she croaked, a shaky lilt in her voice.

Summer bit her lip, her mind warring at the edge of indecision. She hesitated to answer, and how exactly to approach it without sending Chrys into sulking. "Well... what _do_ you want to do today?" she asked, settling for the passive question.

Chrys shrugged half-heartedly, sending her thought process spiralling out of control. What could she do? Summer couldn't stick to her plans without pushing Chrys furthermore into her mood, and Summer doubted she would be pleased in being forced to play when she didn't want to. She'd be lucky if Chrys only gave her the cold shoulder after that.

But she at least needed to hear a response from her, so Summer asked cautiously, "Erm, Chrys… isn't there anything that interests you here? Y'know… there's a lot of games here, and I think they're lots of fun." She gestured to the assortment of people that meandered around the festival grounds and the colourful stalls with LED lights hung from their canopies.

Chrys gazed at them with apathetic eyes.

She sighed when Chrys shrugged again, with as little care as she seemed to suggest. Really, she was such a handful sometimes. Summer thought confidently if Chrys was angry, it would've been so much easier than dealing with a mopey Chrys. She'd bet Qrow would be the best at calming her down — the uncle side of him was just too great to resist staying back at the sidelines. Too bad she hadn't introduced them both to each other yet. They just haven't had the time.

"Then what about let's go to the park? If you don't want to play, we can both sit and relax at the gardens–"

"No."

_Bwah?! _"I- I don't… know what else do you want…" Summer's mind went numb, she didn't register what she had just uttered, and she could only hear a constant buzzing inside her head. She grasped desperately at any semblance of reasoning coming out of the girl's mouth, wanting to understand or at least sympathise with her.

"I wanna talk," was all Chrys said. Talk? Oh they could talk, alright! And hey, they were in the middle of talking right now. Her fingers itched to pull her own hair, just so she could vent her emotions. But, thinking like that wouldn't be fair to Chrys, would it?

With a deep inhale of breath, she asked, "Well, what do you want to talk about?"

"How did she d- die?"

Summer stared at her with wide eyes and gaping mouth, her mind unable to process on the words said by the girl. "P- Pardon me?"

For the second time today, Chrys looked at her, with eyes dulled and detached from the world. Yet her voice shook full of emotions, "My mom, y- you were the one who saw her…" Her gaze fell to the ground. "... die. Please, tell me how she died."

She didn't know what to say to her, Summer couldn't believe her own two ears with what she was hearing. Questions ran through her head, so many of them she couldn't keep up. But, most of them started with the word 'why'. A young girl like her shouldn't even be asking that kind of question!

"N- Now, now, Chrys. I don't know what you mean…"

"Why won't you tell me?" She stomped her feet, and hands clenched with a tremor. Her hazel eyes shone in the evening light, her furious glare made Summer look away ashamed.

"I don't–" she started, but cut herself off in disbelief when Chrys smacked her in the stomach. It didn't hurt her, nowhere near it, what with her being in far worse situations. But the shock value of Chrys even hitting her made her heart ache painfully with each blow dealt to her.

She hit her again, a sound similar to that of a crack… Chrys! She was going to break her arm if she continued punching her, Chrys' body wasn't made to take this much toll. A crowd of its own soon gathered to watch the spectacle enfold in front of them. People stared and pointed at them, Summer grew more into a panic as her tantrum got worse.

She managed to grab a hold of her down, looking right into her eyes and saying in the most gentle voice she could muster, "Chrys, please–" but her plea fell on deaf ears as she tugged her body out of Summer's grip — worrying she might just snap her arms in two, she let go — and glared at her.

"No!" she declared, so rich of hate was her voice that Summer stopped dead in her tracks. "No. No! I don't wanna hear from you again. I _hate_ you! I hate you, I hate you, I HATE YOU!" she screamed at her, as the throng of people became more intrigued.

Summer's heart wilted under her baleful scowl, not used to all this rage directed at her. They were attracting some unwanted attention from the crowd, and she continued to try to calm Chrys down. But, every attempt to do so only drew the girl's ire to her even more.

"This is all your fault! If it wasn't for Summer, Mom would still be here!" Chrys' breath hitched, tears falling down her reddened cheeks.

Summer froze, her own tears threatening to break free. No… that wasn't her fault. She wasn't at fault, surely. She didn't kill her.

No… Chrys was wrong.

It was twitch at first, then a step back. Summer was broken out of her stupor when Chrys stood out of her reach, a good two meters from where Summer was. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped, "Chrys, wait!"

She ran into the horde.

_Damn it, damn it, damn it! _Something dark and sinister bubbled inside her chest, almost suffocating her. Summer chased after the girl, trying to catch a sign of Chrys in the chaos of the crowd. There was none. Frantic eyes searched the countless faces, their bodies were so close together Summer couldn't get past them.

She whirled around, almost knocking over the unfortunate bystanders that got too close. Right over there, she could see a mop of black hair bobbing up and down, she cried her name, "Chrys!" the girl didn't turn to look at her.

Summer weaved past the bodies that stood between her and Chrys, lightly brushing against their shoulders and _hearing_ their combined heartbeats that seemed to sing in unison with hers. "Chrys, wait!" she yelled again, her voice getting lost in the sound of her own breathing, her heart pumping with every step she took.

Closer now, Summer halted in her pursuit. The girl was smiling while holding a cone of cotton candy in her dainty hands, laughing brightly as she skipped along the gravel with an airy tone.

Summer panickedly looked around, her mind going haywire. She lost Chrys, she almost couldn't believe it was possible — yet, she was also unsurprised, in a way — for Chrys to actually have the guts to run off, and Summer to get distracted so easily. Where did she go? She couldn't have gone far, not with this kind of crowd. Summer grimaced, unable to shake off the thought of Chrys wandering alone and being in danger without her there to protect the girl. She shook her head, she needed focus, she needed to–

Faint screaming, Summer half-wondered if she heard it wrong, but a part of her mind somehow knew. A pitch in tone she was all too familiar with. Dread, agony, and fear. All unbefitting in a place like the festival.

As soon as she heard it, the sound faded — almost instantly so — and Summer was soon exposed to normal background noises again.

An explosion of fire roared in the distance, whipping winds as the crowd was thrown into chaos.

Summer paled.

«•••»

Knocking inside her head were screams of horror and the sound of the sky falling apart. Sullen grey clouds drifted slowly, shimmering with crackling energy she couldn't possibly comprehend. Chrys clamped her ears shut and huddled further into a ball, trying to shrink as much as she could to hide from the terrifying sight the world beheld.

Hot tears brimmed her hazel eyes, flowing down her cheeks like lava. She pressed her face against the bitter gravel, pulling her hands over her head. The sounds… they hurt so much. They hurt her and they scared her. They made Chrys want to tear her ears off. _Please… make it stop._

Another scream pierced her ears, so deafening and shrill. Though she didn't want to see the woman who was howling in pain, they sounded so close to her. Chrys heard the woman begging for her life — to whom, she didn't know, her voice so frail and weak it sounded like her lungs were about to collapse.

_Stop. _Chrys palmed her hands against her ears harder. _Make it stop…._

"Please, Don't kill me! Why are you doing this to me, I didn't do anything wrong! I- I have a child and- and a husband, PLEASE–!"

Chrys whimpered when a sound like thunder rang out, the thump of something heavy crashing to the ground and of thick water gushing following after. She didn't see what happened to the woman, but she was silent. Only the sound of Chrys' rapid, shallow breathing and of something metal hitting the gravel filled the air.

_Please, make it stop…._

Heavy footfalls came close to Chrys' bundled form, making her flinch when shadows fell right over her. Her breathing quickened–

«—»

But she froze when they moved past her, her heart skipped a beat when another shot boomed in the air. A distant scream heralded the attacker's full attention.

She needed to run for her life and this was the time to do just that. But she couldn't move, as though frozen in place. Her arms felt awfully tired, and her legs tingling with senselessness. She felt herself topple sideways, her cheeks pressed against the course dirt.

Hazel eyes lazily opened as she tried to scream, but no sound came out from her yawning mouth. The world looked so fuzzy and chaotic, the flames she could stare in the distance a glaring orange and red that burned her retinas. She could hear thunder again, making her head buzz in agony. That sound, so annoying. It irritated her, made her want to shake and curl herself up into a ball again.

But it didn't. Instead, Chrys laid there. She didn't have the power to push herself up, or to even run. Her heart was beating slothily, her adrenaline she felt being drained from her, leaving only emptiness in its wake.

_Help… me._

The sirens started to play in the background, a constant whining pitch echoing through the smoky air. Her fingers twitched and tried to grasp at anything, struggling to find control. Chrys couldn't move her eyes, but she could _feel_ them widening and glazing over.

_HELP!_

Something in her chest tightened, it took a moment for her to realize it was her lungs. She couldn't… breath, she tried to suck in more air, but she didn't know how to. Chrys panicked, screaming, but no sound came out, only the whispering breath of her deprived lungs.

_PLEASE, HELP! SOMEONE!_

Her fingers curled involuntarily, moving of its own accord before laying on the ground, stone cold. Chrys was terrified, the feeling of her own body growing cold and detached, she'd never felt this way before. It was otherworldly, as though her Soul was being stretched to the point of it becoming so thin she might be ripped from it entirely. Chrys also didn't know how she just understood that concept, age dictated that, but she did. It just came naturally, out of her will to do otherwise than to know.

_It's not me… this isn't me… it's not... me…._

She cried, but no tears escaped her glassy eyes. Her heart slowed to a turtle's pace, she could feel everything inside protesting at the lack of blood flowing in her body. She wailed again, but it proved useless when she could only hear it in her head. If she imagined it, tears pricked her wide, hazel eyes. She was about to scream in frustration and anger but for a shadow looming over her still body, making her pause.

She couldn't look over her shoulder to see what was hovering over her, eyes still fixed at the space in front of her. But she could smell _his_ breath from her spot on the floor, blowing out puffs of air as though he had ran a marathon. She could _feel_ his gaze on her, burning a hole in the back of her head. She quelled the urge to hide in herself, even though she couldn't move, anyway.

"This isn't good, this isn't good, this isn't good, at all..." the man mumbled nonsensically, slurring words together from how maniacal he sounded. Chrys continued to panic, trying to break the control on her body. She shook, but her body refused to move. Deathly still, frigid and stiff like a corpse.

Before she knew it, beefy hands settled under both her armpits, hauling her limp body to the man's shoulder, face down. She flinched in discomfort — though she couldn't — finding the position cumbersome. Her body didn't seem to agree with her, for it sagged in the substitute bed, almost falling off were it not for the man's firm hold on her.

The man continued to whisper gibberish to himself, not even talking, more like a chant of some kind. The same phrase over and over again, with the same nervous tone of voice, as though the man was expecting some punishment awaited him. Chrys tried to thrash out of his grip, cry, scream, or _do something_ other than being completely out of it like she was now.

She felt tired, her heart almost giving up entirely, breath coming out in waning wisps–

«—»

Her anger and fear was muted, they felt so wrong now. So… alien. Like a faraway memory, she felt empty, cold, and alone. The man carrying her was nothing but distant company to her.

With clarity now in her mind, Chrys began to wonder if she was going to die. She sure felt like dying. Her hold over her consciousness was dwindling little by little, with every second passed by with her further lolling into a beckoning slumber. She could see it, the light at the end of a tunnel. There was nothing left for her to do, she was less than useless, just a Soul trapped in a husk of a body.

Morbid thoughts like that should've terrified her, the notion of imminent death upon her utterly terrorizing, yet it didn't. Instead, she felt resigned, almost apathetic. No, that wasn't it. Confused, and tired. The kind of tired where the world was a spinning mess and all she could do was lay there trying to keep herself from puking.

The man jostled Chrys on his shoulder before suddenly dropping her with a loud thud, sending her sprawled on the ground. She expected pain, but she found only an echo reverberating throughout her skull. She smelled the scent of crackling fire, so close to burning her nostrils it irritated her, yet she couldn't do anything to stop it.

She gazed forlornly at the lead coloured sky, the shattered moon's silhouette breaking through the clouds, bathing her face in celestial light. She felt hands dragging her limp body across the pavement, the sound of fire growing closer to her, and wondering if she was slowly succumbing to hysteria, imagined it laughing at her.

_Stop it._ She inwardly glared at the image of fire in her head, it smirked mockingly in return with an animated smile, eyes like vivid orbs of vermillion. Chrys was broken from her mental irritation when she was suddenly presented with the face of a man looking down on her, twisting into a fearsome scowl and moustache wrinkling.

He swiveled his head to glare at someone out of her peripheral vision, directing his anger clearly through his eyes. "You sack of horse manure… I _specifically_ told you to bring me an active Soul! What part of _alive_ do you not understand? Or are you so thick-skulled that even soundwaves cannot travel through that useless brain of yours?"

"Um, sir, soundwaves travel fastest in solids–"

The man lashed out a gloved hand, ending the start of an argument. "I _knew _that! Don't you think to lecture me on what I already know. And on one such subject you can't fully wrap your tiny head around, no less," he added, muttering under his breath. "Now, back to important matters at hand, would you like to explain why you brought me a dead body, and not someone who's, you know, alive?" he urged on.

"But… she's still alive…"

He rolled his eyes, brow twitching in annoyance. "Machines don't lie, you numbhead." He moved over to her side, resting his shoes on the side of her chest. "She's nothing but a corpse." The man kicked her down to lay her sideways, cheek pressing against the coarse floor.

An empty gaze greeted her, eyes layered with a film of pure shock and disbelief. The woman's mouth agape, blood dripping quietly down to her chin then to the tainted ground, splashing much like a teardrop against a surface of crimson. She'd liked to think she screamed in fright, face pale, eyes wide and white. But there was no hiding herself from the truth. She did nothing.

There were others too, in similar states of lifelessness. Chrys came to the conclusion that this place was intended for the reason of dumping bodies. But, why dump the bodies? It wasn't like they were discreet with their slaughterings, the explosions weren't very keen on keeping it secret anyway.

Chrys felt an epiphany strike her down as she sensed another wave of heat from the flames nearby. They were going to burn the bodies, her along with them. For what purpose — as the act of concealing their murderous deeds wouldn't erase what had already been done — she didn't know. But she saw a glimpse of people carrying bodies towards a gathering of bonfires.

Chrys was unsurprised when she felt muted, silenced. She could feel them, the fear, the unrelenting horror, the dawning realization that shook her to the very fibre of her being. If she wasn't certain whether she would die then, she was convinced now. But it was a distant feeling she couldn't relate.

Screaming. It was like a sudden wave of heavy water crashing down on her, bringing her back to reality. The voice of a man, she couldn't discern what he looked like, but he sounded old and frail. Hoarse as though his throat dried of water. She figured he was scared he might die, crawling away frantically as he could do at his age. She heard the man from before started shouting orders, but she couldn't understand any of them. Like he was speaking a different language. Or maybe he was speaking too fast, Chrys didn't know.

Then, she heard… something. The screams, for one, increased with a growing volume, he sounded in great pain and agony, like being slowly charred alive, the sounds of crackling fire distorting his voice. It was pitiful. She wanted him to stop screaming so loudly.

Then he stopped, blissful silence overtaking her. Chrys must've imagined it, the flames licked hungrily at the smoky air, as though sentient beasts lurking born straight from the sun, savouring the tang of blood and gore. They were mesmerizing, she couldn't stop herself from wondering if they were real or just her own figmentation.

Brisk footsteps headed closer, towards _her._ So this was it, she was going to die, just like that. Her monotony over this whole situation didn't come with a hidden shocker, she could've seen this looming from a mile away. Yet, she was slightly disappointed at how… lackluster this all seemed. She expected her passing surrounded by family and friends, maybe a final stand against a formidable opponent… or something….

Instead, she was laying on the ground, unable to move or scream, and waiting for the inevitable time for her to be burned alive or when her heart finally stopped. Both outcomes didn't sound exactly approachable.

"Oi! You there!" Chrys felt the steps halt just close to her, and heard the confused sound the man made. "Stop dilly-dallying over there and come over here! This Souls won't do the work for you."

The man hesitated, glaring a hole behind her head. But he surrendered and turned, walking dejectedly away. That was a small mercy, Chrys admitted. But afterwards, she didn't know what to do. Now that they were gone, there was–

«—»

Normal breathing.

Chrys was breathing.

She could hardly believe it. She took another breath through her nose, _felt_ the muscles in her lungs contract and expand, saw the faint whiff of air blew out covering her face in mist.

It was real.

Her eyes were wide now, alert and with a new vigour. She was blinking, she could move her eyes. She could _feel_ her surprise when tears started falling, they were warm and filled with moisture, and her shock doubled when her hands came up to wipe her face. They were shaking from excitement, though a little sluggish when it came to moving with accordance to her.

That didn't matter to Chrys, as long as she could move, there was a chance to escape! She was still crying big, fat, ugly tears — from utter relief — and her legs were all wobbly. There was a new glint in her eyes, one she was glad to be there.

There was hope, albeit a desperate one. Chrys drew a quivering breath, and for what had been a long time this day, she smiled a weak smile.

That wilted pathetically when she finally realized where she was. Bodies littered the floor, all facing up, gazing at the moon hidden by heavy clouds. She held her stomach tightly, eyes wide and lips trembling. All her fears, dread, and alarm came crashing down on her as she threw up on the ground.

She hadn't thought the smell of decay was so foul and fetid, that was… dumb of her. It was overwhelming, the dead bodies piled onto one another, their pointless stares shook her to her bones. Chrys was just like them a minute ago, another corpse lay waiting to be cremated.

The realization was enough to make her jolt to action, stumbling to her feet while her mouth still tasted bitter, and she tried not to look at their faces or the blood. Chrys held her stomach mournfully, feeling it churn uncomfortably inside her, threatening to rise up to her throat.

She needed to find Taiyang, she needed to find Summer, she needed to find Dad.

She… needed to find….

Mom–

Chrys looked back with wide eyes, to the sound of terror-stricken shrieking. It was familiar, to the point of freezing her in place, her heart going cold once again. That voice, _her_ voice, cried out in agony. Chrys' fists clenched at her sides, drawing blood that dripped from the palms of her hands.

Her golden mop of hair stood out from the dreary smog that wafted in the air, like a beacon through a dark storm, she guided her to the place of her anguish. The little girl was encircled by those strange people, she was cradling her leg which Chrys swore she could see specks of red on them. Her vision blurred, suddenly feeling nauseous again, and the world seemed to tip over.

Questions ran through her–

Where was Taiyang–?

Where was Alfred–?

Where was Summer–?

Yang locked onto Chrys' gaze, her eyes were teary and white.

She knew what to do then.

Chrys ran–

«—»

She ran.

Her eyes focused on ahead and her breathing even. Her footsteps carried her hurriedly forward, steps echoing like the sound of rain in her ears. She didn't know why she was moving all of a sudden, so fast too, her body was in a sugar rush and she had the energy to run a marathon.

There was no doubt in her heart, only intent. Chrys saw the way Yang's eyes grew wider now, an emotion she couldn't make out brought on her face, and her slack-jawed expression. The men that circled the little girl got closer, Chrys moved faster, muscles burning and begging to stop, but only made her push further.

Their unprotected backs were facing her, unheeding of her nearing approach. Tempting her to close the gap and maul on their fleshy necks, but her eyes slid back to Yang, bringing her thoughts in order.

She neared the person closest to her in big leaps, their head perking up at the noise behind them. The world closed in on itself and Chrys focused on the sheathed dagger on their hip, a tease of silver steel. She snatched it, slamming it down against the centre of their girth with both hands held together, the leather digging into her palms. The person gasped with pain she couldn't recognise, not having the moment to bend double before Chrys dragged the bloody blade out and plunged in again.

And again, and again, and again, and again–

_*Click*_

She _swerved_ out of the way with dagger still gripped in her blood-stained hand, the place she once stood suddenly blown to pieces, and the person she stabbed fell to their knees cradling their bleeding stomach. Chrys turned to the suddenly wide-eyed man that had tried to shoot her, now scrambling to reload his shotgun with shaky hands.

Chrys growled, a rumbling sound that came straight from the depths of her dry throat, guttural and inhuman. The man's lips moved about, "W-What the hell?!" he shouted. She flashed forward before she could think twice about what she was planning to do next, making the man curse and point the shotgun right at her face as she closed the meager distance between her and the man.

_*Click*_

She jabbed the knife into his thigh, earning a sharp yell of pain from him, the shotgun fired with a shattering roar, and she cried out as her left arm blew–

«—»

Chrys didn't cringe away, nor did she give him a chance to reload, as Chrys tore the dagger off in a shower of blood and sped past the man before he could get a hold of her. She caught Yang's eyes, they stared at her in disbelief, or maybe was that hope?

Her hair, once the colour of spun gold, now matted with blood and dirt. Her skin, bruised and scathed, no longer a pure baby-cream in tone, dusted with grime. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she howled in pain again, clutching her ankle with ruddy hands.

Something gnawed at her heart, seeing Yang beaten up and disheveled like that, her eyes were so full of unconcealed fear and confusion. These things made Chrys all the more determined to save her from this tragedy of a night — end her suffering — with whatever means necessary.

Even if it could cost her Body, Mind, and Soul.

She swept Yang unto her arm, the little girl being light enough for Chrys to carry easily. Yang clung like a vice, burying her face against her chest. She felt moisture building up in her shirt, but couldn't bring herself to care, not with Yang in her hold and crying. All she cared about was to bring her somewhere safe, somewhere she couldn't be hurt, somewhere far away.

She moved–

_*Click*_

Only to stumble forward halfway, the sudden change in momentum caused Yang to lurch backwards, crashing to the ground alongside her with a pained yell. She gasped when Yang went out of her reach, watching as she cried in agony when the wound on her leg stretched abruptly. Chrys tried to stand, but she fell again, pain coursing from below her waist.

She looked down to her legs, and froze in shock when all she saw were two bloodied stumps–

«—»

She looked down to her legs, and turned back to Yang when all she saw were her torn off limbs. The little girl shook in place, face contorting and eyes clenched shut, bearing the misery.

Hurt. Agonised. Crying.

Chrys crawled towards her, eyes focused on Yang. The little girl watched her through eyes glistened with tears, letting out a high-pitched whine through wet lips. Chrys tried to reach out to her, but something heavy settled down on her back, pushing her against gravel and making it hard for her to breathe.

"Ooh… what a surprise we have ourselves here," a familiar voice called out from above her — through the numb haze, she recognized him as the one who dismissed her as a corpse. That was all it took in making her tilt her head and scowl up at him, her eyes narrowed with rage. The man simply chuckled, looking at the person who she had stabbed in the leg. "and I genuinely thought you were useless. Hmph, I guess you can be of use, after all."

He didn't respond, still kneeled with a bleeding leg and panting.

"But," he sighed. "perhaps you've run out of steam, this time." The man glared at the grunts standing aside, a scowl taking place. "Put him out of his misery, just put a knife to his throat or something. Oh, and also strip the other sack of shit of what's left of his Soul, too. We can't afford to waste any of them."

He turned Chrys over on her back against the ground, settling his weight onto his leg that pinned her down, almost crushing her chest. She glowered up at him, and with the dagger still firmly gripped in her right hand, she brought it down on his calf.

To her shock, the blade didn't embed itself into his leg like she had expected. Rather, a thin, yellowish sheen of light_ sparked_ to life around the spot she had stabbed, pushing the dagger outward. Chrys had a moment to gasp when the man kicked her hand away, knocking the dagger out of her hold. She saw him unsheathing the sword on his hip, the much larger blade gleaming in the moonlight, and she screamed as he stabbed down on her right arm–

«—»

Blood spewed everywhere, thick and rich in colour. Chrys glared up at the man with burning hatred in her eyes, a low snarl through gritted teeth. He leaned down, bringing a hand to cup his chin. "Hm, you are interesting, indeed…. Alas, you are only but a single Soul in a pile of others." He looked over her, to Yang. "But you, my dear, are not."

He wrenched his sword out and speared into her shoulder to the ground, keeping her skewed to the ground. "I can't help but notice that same glint in your eyes, the buried power. So much potential, just like your mother…" He walked past her, hand outstretched to Yang, who was crawling away, looking up at him in fear. "Come, I'll show you power — _she'll_ show you power…"

"NO!"

«—»

….

"_YANG!"_

A silvery blade flashed.

A scream.

Blood on a silvery cloak_._

"_Argh! Damn you! You'll pay for this, Rose!"_

…_._

"_Leave my daughter alone!"_

"_M- Mom…"_

…_._

A gasp.

…_._

Silvery eyes.

Chrys smiled.

"_Oh gods, Chrys…. You're- You're going to be okay, alright-? Chrys? Chrys, wake up!"_

"_Mom… what's gonna happen to he–"_

"_She's going to be fine, Dear… I just need–"_

A hitched breath.

…_._

"_I'm sorry."_

…_._

Silvery tears reflected by moonlight.

"_Through despair and hardship, we shine the brightest. _

_We shall carry the burdens of those who have faced pain and anguish, so they may dream calm yet again, blind to the night. _

_We shall light the paths through the storm, so they may sail in peaceful waters, undisturbed by the chaos. _

_I, Summer Rose, release your Soul, and by my hand…._

_Bestow thee."_

The world turned bright.

«∆»

**27.12.19**


End file.
